Chapter 301: Luo Dashan, Are You a Woman?

Mi Long lifted his wrist and, using the faint daylight, glanced at the watch face.

Early morning, 6:06.

To bite through the Japanese Army's First Defensive Line, it actually took more than an hour.

This was thanks to those big Air Force guys "scrubbing the ground" from the sky.

If those few heavy bombs hadn't blown the enemy's fortifications to pieces, Mi Long knew that relying on his gun to force the advance would only cause his own brothers to fall now.

Jungle warfare is too advantageous for the defending side.

Though they won, the battle was not easy. On Mi Long's side it was relatively good: five soldiers fell, a dozen‑plus were wounded. But over at Luo Dashan's side, the situation was far grimmer.

That reckless youngster, boasting a few mountain guns, didn't even give Mi Long a heads‑up, and rushed a First Battalion forward with a roar. The result? Just when victory seemed near, a lingering Japanese fire point bit them, and over thirty Sichuan Army brothers were brutally cut down.

"Rest in place, set up guard posts, don't let the enemy get close," Mi Long spat out mud and sand, commanding in a deep voice.

"Yes!"

The Messenger turned and ran off to relay the order.

Mi Long handed the scorching MG42 in his hand to the guard behind him, ignoring the blue smoke still puffing from the barrel, and strode through the crowd toward the 448th Regiment First Battalion's rest area.

In the distance, the First Battalion's soldiers chattered about the recent fight, some animated, some still trembling, but the bustling noise seemed completely unheard by Mi Long.

His gaze fixed on one man: Luo Dashan.

At that moment Luo Dashan sat on a stone, gritting his teeth as he sucked in the cool air. His left arm dangled across his chest, the bandage oozing dark red blood. It had been hit by a Little Devil's 38mm round, the bullet piercing his forearm, but the field medic stitched it up in time.

Seeing Mi Long's dark face approach, Luo Dashan thought the mortal foe was here to mock him, forcing out a grin uglier than crying: "Mi Long, you're here. See, the Little Devil bit me, that damn thing's hand is so black…"

Before he could finish, Mi Long gave no chance to finish the sentence, lunged forward, grabbed Luo Dashan's collar, and with his other hand slammed the 1.8‑meter‑tall brute down into the mud!

"Snap!"

"You damn—! Mi Long, are you crazy?!" Luo Dashan's head buzzed, his mind went blank, then he snapped back and shouted.

Around the First Battalion, the soldiers saw their own battalion commander struck, and with a clatter they all rose, those pulling levers pulling levers, those raising guns raising guns, a dozen pairs of eyes reddened, staring at Mi Long, the situation instantly tense.

Mi Long paid no heed to the gaping muzzles, mounted Luo Dashan, swung his palm‑sized hand like a fan, and punched Luo Dashan's face hard.

"Bang!"

The punch landed solidly, cracking Luo Dashan's mouth corner; half a blood‑soaked tooth splattered with foam, and his cheek swelled visibly.

"You wimp! Shut up!" Mi Long's eyes reddened like a raging lion, his roar making Luo Dashan's ears buzz, "From now on, your First Battalion, Luo Dashan, must obey my orders! If you dare act on your own again, I'll kill you myself!"

"Bullshit! I'm the battalion commander, you're just a Company Commander, why should I listen to you…" Luo Dashan spat another froth of blood, still struggling. In size, he was half a head taller than Mi Long, usually a notorious brute, but now Mi Long's reckless killing aura pinned him immobile; he could only shield his head with both hands, fearing another blow to his temples.

Mi Long yanked Luo Dashan's collar, hauling him out of the mud like a tossed chick, dragging the disheveled commander, stumbling toward the nearby area where bodies were being sorted.

There, a row of bodies covered with white cloth lay neatly, rain striking the cloth, making the scene especially bleak.

"Luo Dashan! Open your dog eyes and look carefully!" Mi Long pointed at the corpses, his voice trembling with fury, "Your reckless charge, your pig‑brain rush, completely messed up my tactical deployment! Look at them; they didn't have to die! We could have waited for the artillery to smash the Japanese before advancing, but you—?!"

It could have minimized losses, though zero loss was impossible; from Yidu onward, Mi Long's Company served as the Vanguard Unit, and its personnel also suffered casualties.

Only when Jiang Anguo moved north to Yichang did he replenish an entire battalion's strength for the whole regiment.

Luo Dashan froze, his gaze hazy as he stared at the white cloths, some covering longtime neighbors, some barely sixteen.

"Look at them!" Mi Long roared again, eyes reddened, "Their families have fathers, mothers, siblings, all waiting for them to return! Because of your so‑called death‑defying charge, you dumped all their lives here! I'm not after your credit; I just want to kill the Japanese! Can you answer to them? Huh?!"

To say he's afraid of death, Mi Long was the most fearful during Chanda, yet on the battlefield he is also the bravest.

Mi Long also wants to go home, but his home is in the Northeast.

The surrounding muzzles slowly drooped.

The First Battalion's soldiers looked at the bodies on the ground, then at the raging Mi Long and the blood‑splattered commander, each falling silent, their eyes gradually reddening.

At this moment they all understood that this allied Company Commander struck his own battalion commander because of the losses.

"Should hit!"

But if judged by past standards, with casualties under a hundred and over four hundred Japanese killed, this would already be a huge victory.

Luo Dashan ceased struggling and stopped speaking.

He stood blankly, letting the cold rain wash the blood and mud from his face. The searing pain from Mi Long's blow seemed gone, replaced by a suffocating remorse and bitterness rising from his heart.

At that moment, the tough man lowered his head like a child who had erred.

Only then did Luo Dashan begin to regret, his eyes slightly red.

Mi Long tossed Luo Dashan aside, turned back with a fierce glance, "Luo Dashan, remember, from now on your battalion must cooperate with my Company's actions, understand?"

Luo Dashan said nothing.

"Did you understand?" Mi Long said again, leaving no room for doubt.

"Understood."

Mi Long looked at the defiant Luo Dashan, "Luo Dashan, are you a woman? Got it?"

Luo Dashan roared angrily, "Understood!"

Among the Sichuan Army there were veterans; after careful recollection they agreed that indeed, if their own battalion commander hadn't launched the attack, causing the Company's assault formation to collapse and affecting the MG42's firing position, their side wouldn't have lost so many men.